


What's Your Sin?

by Princess_Rowdymittens



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Captivity, Consensual Sex, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Light Angst, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Rowdymittens/pseuds/Princess_Rowdymittens
Summary: Rook knows her best chance of getting free of John's bunker with her skin intact is to play his obsession with her against him. What she doesn't expect is how much he's already gotten into her head. She decides to stay a little longer than she should and let him treat her to a private religious service.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	What's Your Sin?

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just an alternate version of the bunker scene with John because I love a cocky bastard and wanted to turn it into smut. I will probably do similar with the other Seeds when I have the energy.

It was a spur of the moment decision, and the Deputy was almost positive it was the wrong one. Even so, the excitement in John’s eyes at the prospect of getting to be alone with her as he wheeled a miserable and disheveled Hudson out of the room caused her to have to think about a few things very quickly. 

John was gone for the moment, and he had left her in a wheeled chair with full access to the stairwell -- an oversight which was so glaring she suspected it might actually have been intentional -- almost as if tempting her to leave. Probably some sort of bizarre test. 

The Deputy considered the stairwell. It would be a painful tumble, but she’d taken worse falls. She’d have to try to find Hudson so they could shoot their way out. An intimidating prospect, but not impossible. Not for a survivor. All the same, part of her had to wonder if there was a different way that she could twist John’s obsession with her. It would drive him to hunt her until one of them killed the other or… She didn’t have much more time to think. She could already hear footsteps resounding off the metal walls of the bunker, returning to the room she’d been left in. With one last glance at the stairway, the Deputy took a deep breath and remained in place, waiting. 

John’s expression upon returning was a brief flit of genuine surprise, as though he hadn’t expected her to still be there, but he quickly masked it with his usual showy little smirk. 

“Right where I left you. Good,” he purred, his attempts at playing the smooth intimidator not very well hiding the odd excitement behind his eyes. He took his time sidling across her sight line at a casual but performative gait, eyes raking slowly over her, drinking in everything about the situation. “I see you’re actually taking this seriously. Really taking your time to consider the power of Y _es_.” He hissed the last word, seeming to take great pleasure in drawing out the last syllable. The Deputy honestly felt a little stupid that his ridiculous show was actually getting to her.  _ ‘What the hell is wrong with you, Rook?' _ she silently reprimanded herself, keeping her eyes locked on his, brow furrowed even as her cheeks lightly burned. 

John continued savoring this moment and the upper hand he had, running his fingers over several different tools on his workbench before crossing back toward Rook and picking up his tattoo gun. 

“I thought I knew your sin, Deputy, but after you waited here so patiently now I’m not so sure,” he mused, tapping the back of the gun on his chin as he slowly scanned the expanse of skin on the Deputy’s partially exposed chest, reaching out with his free hand to run his fingers down her sternum, considering his canvas, though not exactly free of ulterior motive. “We’ll just have to talk about it then. Let’s have a confession, Deputy. What do you think is your greatest sin? What taints your blood and fuels the vile thoughts in your head that cause you to defy the Father? What word would feel right etched into your skin?” He was clearly taking some glee in monologuing like this, but even more in the fact that he had her here at all. Rook sighed and scrunched up her face a moment before finally speaking for the first time since he’d returned.

“I got to level with you, Johnny. I don’t think you want to convert me,” she said, her tone flat and challenging, even though she definitely was not at an advantage here. Even so, John seemed interested in what she might be getting at. 

“I could be insulted that you doubt my devotion, but I have to admit I’m interested in what your deviant mind could be conjuring, so indulge me,” he gave a little gesture with his hand for her to continue, tattoo gun held at bay for the moment by his curiosity. 

In spite of the situation, Rook couldn’t help but let out a short laugh at her own audacity before continuing “Yeah. You don’t want to save me. You want to fuck me,” she stated plainly. John’s eyes widened significantly at the claim, and he was rendered speechless long enough for her to continue. “I’m right, aren’t I? You want to fuck me. You’ve been doing it with your eyes since you met me. So come on. I’m here now. Drop the pretense and do it.” The issued challenge hung in the air for a few long moments as John processed, leaning in a little more to be at eye level with the Deputy, his expression moving from surprise to confusion to an odd, dark, hopeful excitement. 

“Are you messing with me, Deputy? You’re presuming an awful lot, but what if it /was/ true? What are you going to get out of jerking me around?” He asked, attempting to not allow his performative air to give way to sounding too interested in case she was indeed bluffing. The Deputy continued cursing herself for whatever was causing her to actually be enjoying the intensity of his gaze, be it the Bliss in her system or some weird side effect of her conditioning, but she was going to work this in her favor one way or another. 

“Cut the bullshit, John. We’re both bad liars. So how about just put your damn needle down and show me what you’ve really been wanting to do to me. You’ve got your yes,” she stated, growing more assured of her own words by the moment, color rising in her cheeks and body growing hot as she bought more and more into her own conviction. 

“Yes.” John replied almost automatically upon registering the seriousness in her eyes, dropping his facade and quickly setting aside his tattoo gun. “Yes, yes, yes,” he repeated, his amazed eyes not leaving her face as he hastily pulled the knife from his belt to cut her hands free, followed quickly by her feet. His usual need to always be trying to say something clever seemed to have been put on hold for the moment as he tossed the knife aside and pulled Rook from the chair, only to immediately shove her back against the nearest shelf, sending several of its contents clattering to the metal floor as he claimed her next breath with a desperate, devouring kiss. 

Rook had little time to orient herself to this sudden shift in mode, but found the hot intensity of John’s lips almost a little too easy to acclimate to. Her hands flew up almost automatically to brace at the back of his neck and grip at his hair -- a little stiff from the stuff he used to slick it back. At this proximity, whatever shallow intake of breath she could manage through her nose was flooded with his scent; blood and pomade, bliss and cologne. Rook grew ever more furious at herself with how much this was affecting her even as she met the insistent advances of John’s tongue in her mouth with muffled moans of approval.

John gave a low, pleased growl in his throat at her reciprocation and ran his hands brazenly down her sides to tug her hips firmly against his. He left her lips briefly after a few moments to catch his breath, panting and — as Rook noted when he pulled back to look at her — smirking ever so slightly, regarding her with the same look of mingled arrogance and desire that he’d been giving her since they met. With a huff of annoyance, Rook grabbed his shirt collar and tugged him back into another aggressive kiss, punishing him for his smugness with a sharp nip on the lower lip. He responded favorably to this, immediately overtaking her lips with his kiss again and moving one hand to grip at her ass in a way that felt distinctly like he was laying claim to it. 

_ ‘This asshole’  _ thought Rook, brow furrowed with irritation even as she eagerly pressed her hips against his.  _ ‘Smug bastard with his stupid smug face and bastard sunglasses.’  _ These thoughts were in no way productive but they still helped her find a little vindication in the muddle of feelings he was stirring up. As another petty bit of revenge, she slid her hand up onto his head to take his sunglasses and toss them a little disdainfully off to the side before giving into the temptation to allow her hands to indulge in exploring his face and neck. She could feel his pulse pounding under her fingers as her hand rested on his neck, briefly toying with the possibility of choking him out, but losing the battle of wills with her own body very quickly and instead continuing the path of her hands downward. 

John, as though sensing Rook’s turmoil — though also likely needing a breath just as she did— pulled back from her lips, gasping for air, but smirking once again. 

“Seems like you’re struggling with something, Deputy,” he crooned, his voice having taken on a bit of a husky gravel. His hands left her hips and rose to unbutton her shirt the rest of the way with unsurprising deftness. “If I know anything, it’s about helping people through a crisis of faith…” his eyes ran an unrepentant trail down her torso, making no secret of how much he was enjoying this as one free hand slid up the length of her body. “Talk to me, deputy. What are you going through right now?” he continued in his characteristic way of running his mouth, that wandering hand now sliding up further to shove her bra up and out of the way. 

“You are such an asshole,” Rook groaned, likewise a little short of breath, and unable to keep a bit of a telltale shiver of arousal out of her voice. His hands were warm and distracting and one was now pretty skillfully attending to her breasts as he continued to take in the sight of her with unmasked pleasure. Rook growled a little in annoyance at his continued smugness, even as her hands slid under the open collar of his shirt to get a good feel for the scarred surface of his exposed chest. 

“See deputy? You’re all torn up inside, storing all that anger and guilt in here” John continued, indicating her heart with a small theatrical splaying of his hand over her upper left breast. “You could feel so free if you would just take all that sin and write it out. Right here,” he trailed his fingers almost adoringly over the currently blank and smooth skin of her upper chest. 

For a moment Rook felt those words take her. They seemed to follow the path of his fingers, seeping into her chest and burning there. His clear blue eyes, free of the showy arrogance that the rest of his body presented, seemed to cut right through her. They were, in their own way, honest. There was something about this that he truly believed, and something about her that he deeply believed in as well. Instantly, something in Rook understood why John could take so many people in so easily, and something else made her feel overwhelmingly special and important to have captured his singular attention like this. 

It was another moment before Rook managed to catch herself and snap out of it, and once she had she felt a little shaken. John had managed, if only for an instant, to convert her. The thought disturbed her as much as it intrigued her. 

She quickly masked her brief lapse behind her former hard expression and hurriedly scoffed off his words. “Shut up,” she mumbled, resuming her former activity, dispensing with any care and roughly tugging his shirt the rest of the way open, sending at least one of the buttons flying off in some direction. He didn’t seem to care. He had caught that momentary change in her eyes and was looking at her, not with smugness as she might have expected, but with a strange reverent awe and excitement, as though he had just witnessed something truly glorious. A quiet revelation that only he knew about. Rook shifted under his gaze, wishing she didn’t enjoy it so much, and having a harder time pretending to be annoyed with him by the second.

“Why you looking at me like that?” she continued, pressing in to begin feverishly kissing at his neck so his eyes couldn’t interrogate her anymore. She didn’t expect a real answer, but hoped maybe to throw him off a little. 

“You’re beautiful,” came his far too simple reply, his voice rumbling against her lips as they explored his throat. A little taken aback by the response, Rook caught herself laughing breathlessly at it. 

“I’m surprised, John. Didn’t take you for a guy with motives that simple,” she exhaled against his neck. With the frenetic range of emotions flooding through her, Rook was becoming more determined to just sweep her crisis of morality under the rug for a bit and just get carried away in this, which she was managing pretty successfully now that she had her hands all over John’s bare torso. 

“I could elaborate on all the ways you’re exquisite, my dear, but that would just waste time that I could be showing you,” John growled, taking the hint to pick up where they’d left off by Rook’s tugging at his earlobe with her teeth. He pulled her roughly back against him and resumed devouring her lips and acquainting his hands with her chest and torso. Rook moaned into his mouth, indicating her growing impatience by shoving him off, setting him briefly reeling, then following after and pouncing on him, hitching her thighs around his hips, closing her hands aggressively in his hair, and all but shoving her tongue down his throat. 

John stumbled, knocking over his lamp and a stool with a loud clatter, but managed to keep balance and brace her against him enough to blindly stagger to the nearest waist high surface. Without his sight it took him a few tries to locate another workbench against the wall, but once he had he slid Rook onto it and pressed her backwards, shoving everything off its surface as they went, then paused for another few desperate gasps of air while he loosened his belt. Rook propped up on her elbows to watch him with hazy eyes, taking the sight of him and no longer hiding her desire, then matching his haste and working quickly to unbuckle her own jeans. John was on her again before she fully managed it, pressing her down against the cold metal and smothering her with his lips. At long long last, one of his hands made its way down her body and under her jeans to start giving her some proper attention. 

“Mmnh, fuck. John…” she moaned against his lips, bucking up into the firm attentiveness of his fingers. John hummed his approval against her skin as he strayed from her lips to suck on the spot over her pulse. 

“It’s so much nicer to hear my name on your lips in pleasure rather than rage,” he huffed breathlessly, pulling back to watch her face and seeming to find revelation and enlightenment again in her gasps of pleasure from each stroke of his attending fingers. He seemed to get a little distracted by his efforts, falling into a sort of reverent awe at the power he held over her body. Each measured stroke of his lithe fingers controlled the heaving of her chest and the intake of her breath. John seemed hypnotized and transfigured by this and Rook, in turn, found her arousal spiked by his quiet worship.  “John,” she now whimpered, writhing a little under his touch, now that it had gone on much longer than he’d seemed to have intended. “I can’t take this much longer. I need you to fuck me /now/,” she demanded, punctuated by grabbing a handful of his hair and stealing a deep, messy kiss as she pressed the leg he was straddling up against him insistently. This seemed to snap John out of his trance a bit and remind him of his own urgency, because he groaned heavily and rocked his hips against her pressing thigh before retracting his hand from its occupation and resuming unfastening his own jeans. Rook’s nostrils flared a little with her impatience, but she aided this along by sliding off the desk and slipping her jeans down just over her hips, pausing for only a moment to show John how much she meant business by grabbing him firmly by the crotch, taking another rough kiss, then turning to bend over the workbench and wait for him. John made a strangled series of noises as he finished fumbling with his jeans.

“Patience is a virtue, my sweet deputy,” he grunted, working at freeing himself with one hand while the other ran gratuitously over the curve of her ass. “One we’re both apparently short on,” he added more quietly, shoving the front of his jeans down just enough so that he could line his hips up with hers and sink inside her. The noise that escaped his lips was something obscene and telling but, still somehow worshipful. His breaths caught and shuddered as Rook fidgeted and moaned, both taking the moment to grow used to feeling each other. 

When the moment passed and lust overtook the both of them again, John set a firm rhythm that started the metal bench creaking and scraping against the floor which did very little to drown out the pair; Rook cursing and moaning John’s name, and John letting filthy little words of praise stream through his harsh grunts. 

Rook had already been getting close after John’s work with his fingers, so it didn’t take her long at all to be spilling over the edge, bucking back against John and practically howling with pleasure as she clenched around him. John slammed a palm down on the workbench beside her and halted the rhythm of his thrusting to experience the fading pulses of her climax undistilled.

“Oh wow, fuck…” Rook panted, a little muffled by the crook of her arm where she was briefly resting her head. “Gimme a second, I’ll— mmnh, yes…” she bucked back against him a little amidst a small aftershock. “Sit in that chair. I wanna be able to see your face,” she gestured blindly to the rolling chair she’d originally been tied up in as she pushed up a little off the bench and lightly nudged John back with her elbow. 

John, looking surprised and delighted that he’d managed to get her off first, seemed happy to comply with her command. Rook watched him grow performative again for a moment, sidling to the chair at a casual, seductive gait and sliding back into it, unable to hide the aroused flush in his cheeks and the desperation to continue apparent in his eyes.

Rook let herself show him a wickedly pleased little smile at this as she wrestled with pulling her jeans and boots off in the wrong order. It was kind of nice getting to see John squirm like this after playing so cool for so long. Even so, she couldn’t — and didn’t want to — keep him waiting forever, and finally kicked fully free of her jeans. She closed the distance between them quickly, swinging a leg over his hips and sinking down onto him once more, this time face to face. 

“It figures you would fuck like a demon,” John moaned, meeting Rook’s eyes with his own burning gaze as he anchored an arm around her waist and drove upward into her. “I knew from the start you’d be my fall into temptation.”

“You didn’t resist much,” Rook pointed out between gasps and heavy rolls of her hips. “No point fighting the inevitable?” She posed the question but drowned out his ability to answer by closing her fingers in his hair and kissing him again, eagerly getting as much of a taste for him as possible while the heat still burned. 

“Sin shapes us, deputy,” John panted against her lips when the two of them finally needed to breathe again. “If our temptations don’t ever claim us, how will we learn?” 

“Spoken like a man who loves looking for learning opportunities,” Rook teased back, however breathlessly. John didn’t respond, not because he’d grown tired of banter, but because he’d reached a point of having more important things on his mind. Closing one hand in Rook’s hair, he firmly directed her head to where he could look her in the eyes as he intensified his upward thrusts. Rook cried out a little at the harsh tug but her whole body was burning again in an instant. Matching his intensity, she dug the fingers of both hands into his hair to pull sharply, making it just as impossible for him to look away from her. 

Locked in this moment, their resulting tunnel vision seemed to burn off any inhibition either of them had about loudly vocalizing their pleasure and desperation even in this well populated bunker. Their obscene grunts and moans mingled with the squeaking of the chair beneath them and resonated around the cement and metal room with each violent rock of their hips. Finally, and with little warning, John’s free hand tensed hard on Rook’s upper thigh, fingers digging into her skin with bruising force as he unravelled, chest heaving with desperate gasps. Feeling him hit his peak, Rook pulled John’s head roughly against her chest and held him there with one hand, letting the condensation of his breath mingle with the sweat of her skin as she hurried to rub out a second climax of her own before the moment evaporated. Her sharp, hoarse cry punctuated John’s fading moans as they melted into each other for a blissful, scorching moment.

It couldn’t last forever. After a minute or so of staying the way they were when their bodies had finally relaxed, John eventually broke the silence that had fallen in the chamber. 

“Now what?” He asked, not yet raising his head from her chest. His voice had lost its showy lilt and had become low and soft, making him sound as though he had been either tamed or defeated. Rook was slow to answer as well, eyes fluttering open to stare at the wall behind him.

“You know I can’t stay here, John,” she replied distantly, unsure of what she should be feeling now that the moment was cooling off again and showing her the full reality of what she’d just done in the sickly flickering fluorescent lights of the bunker. John didn’t seem to like that answer but still didn’t move other than to tense a little. 

“We can start playing chase again if you insist, deputy,” he said, lips still brushing against her collarbone. “But we just wrote our own special condemnation here together. Running won’t change it.” 

“Just give me a head start,” Rook sighed after another long moment of quiet. “Rough yourself up a little and tell Joseph I attacked you and got away.” 

“He’s not fond of lies,” John said, finally raising his head to look just past her to the room beyond. “He’s going to read you on my conscience one way or another.” It was a strange thing to hear John’s voice betray that he was starting to feel just as guilty as Rook herself was. 

“He’ll give you a pass. I’m a succubus, remember? I seduced you,” she replied resolutely. She wasn’t sure why she was assuring her enemy that her even bigger enemy would forgive him, but if nothing else, this new quiet and vulnerable John Seed seemed by far the most likely to let her and Hudson escape than any other version of him. John didn’t answer, just furrowed his brow slightly and slid his hand from her thigh to rest at her hip instead. It was a confusing motion that just highlighted the conflict of whatever he was experiencing at this moment. Rook felt it too. She felt compromised and guilty, but nevertheless still warm, and somehow intrinsically connected to this strangely broken man. The sincerity of his complex sadness was drawing her in with a persistence that turned her stomach a little. She had to get out of here. 

“Just a little bit of a running start,” she reiterated with a tone that implied that they both agreed on this. She finally stood, drawing a groan from both of them as they pulled apart, and stepped away after letting a hand linger on his chest for just a moment too long.

He didn’t move from the chair as she silently dressed and gathered her gear, and only looked up when she approached him again for the purpose of clicking a set of handcuffs around his wrist with the other end around the leg of the nearest table. He looked confused and incredulous but didn’t fight. 

“Plausible deniability,” she said simply, adjusting her belt. “I pulled some sneaky bullshit on you and escaped, easy as that. Your people will be able to get you out of that quick enough.” John was beginning to look more upset now, though still quiet about it and gave her a grunt and a nod. Rook hesitated in front of him, swallowing thickly, unsure of how -- or if-- she should say goodbye in this situation. In the end, she settled on gripping his chin lightly and tilting his head up to look at her. “I wish we could be friends, John. You’d be a good ally to have,” she sighed before releasing him and stepping away. John was quiet until she reached the stairwell and was nearly out of sight. 

“Five minutes. I’ll raise the alarm after that,” he called after her. She looked back to meet his eyes for just a moment, then nodded firmly and took off at a light-footed run down the stairs to find Hudson. 


End file.
